


Hawkeye's Daycare Service

by benicemurphy



Series: AUgust prompt fills [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, F/M, Kid Fic, Pre-Relationship, single dad Roy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy/pseuds/benicemurphy
Summary: Prompt: Single Parent AU for HanRiza has never been the type who knows how to behave around children. Roy is a little bit of a trainwreck.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: AUgust prompt fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885945
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Hawkeye's Daycare Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phichithamsters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phichithamsters/gifts).



The front door bursts open with a bang.

“Sorry!” Roy says. His hair is sticking up in ways it usually doesn’t. His tie hangs around his neck, undone, like he grabbed it as an afterthought on his way out the door. The look in his eyes is frantic, crazed— it _may_ have something to do with the young boy dangling by his ankle in Roy’s outstretched hand, giggling like he’s having the time of his life.

_Joy_. There’s a child in the office, as if Riza really _needs_ a headache today.

“Morning, Roy,” Riza drawls from her seat. Days like this, she’s thankful she has the office closest to the entrance— easy escape. “New haircut?”

“Har har,” Roy says. He lowers the arm holding the boy. The boy’s hair drags along the office floor. Roy’s other arm is holding his documents, which he obviously forgot to put in his briefcase this morning, somehow.

The boy continues to giggle, swinging himself back and forth to make his hair sweep across the carpet.

“Daddy forgot to call Winry!”

Riza raises an eyebrow. “Winry?”

“The babysitter,” Roy explains. He leans down to release his hold on his son, who topples over with a pleased shriek. Riza manages not to outwardly wince at the sound. “The daycare is closed today. On a _Tuesday_. Apparently they told me they’d be closed, but I’m not so sure.”

“Ah.”

Maes, no doubt drawn by the sounds of a child’s laughter, appears from his office with an audible clap to Roy’s shoulder. “Hey there, big guy!” he says to the boy. “Dad dropped the ball, huh?”

“Yep!”

Maes picks the boy up from the ground and tosses him over his shoulder. “Come on, come hang out with me for a few minutes while your dad gets situated. I’ll let you move stuff around on my desk!”

“YAY!”

Roy wilts as Maes disappears with his kid. “Sorry,” he says again. “I wouldn’t have brought him if I had any other options.”

From down the hall, Maes’ voice calls, “You could have left him with Gracia and Elicia!”

Riza has to cough to hide her laughter.

“Now he tells me,” Roy mutters. With a resigned sigh, he runs his hand through his mussed hair. “Forgot my briefcase.”

“I noticed.” Riza can’t help the smile breaking across her lips. She decides to take pity on the poor man; he can’t help that he’s a human disaster sometimes. She rises from her desk, setting aside the client files she’d been reviewing, and takes the folders from his arms. “Here.” His tie needs to be done, so she starts there.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Roy protests.

“I think I do,” she answers. “Relax, Roy.”

He does, infinitesimally. His shoulders drop a little from their hunched position around his ears, and Riza can feel his heartbeat slowing where she smoothes his newly-tied necktie down against his chest.

“There.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Riza pauses to take him in. She adjusts his collar and raises a hand to tame his wild hair, but pauses. They’ve been flirting for a while now, but there’s a line that their flirtations have yet to cross. And this… This is not professional behavior in the workplace.

“Thanks,” Roy says again, clearing his throat and taking a step back. There’s a smattering of pink across the bridge of his nose that’s terribly endearing. “I should probably go rescue my son from Maes before he becomes the next member of the Hughes family.”

“Good thinking,” Riza agrees. She returns his documents to him before he can turn and run. “Don’t forget your work.”

Roy takes them with a bashful grin. “Right.” He huffs a short laugh as he backs away. “I’m a disaster, huh?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Please, don’t spare my feelings,” Roy says around a laugh.

Riza doesn’t respond, only quirks an eyebrow in challenge, daring him to deny it.

“Alright, well…” He steps away and disappears into Maes’ office with a small wave.

It’s quiet for a while, which is surprising. Other people have brought their kids to work before, which usually means a steady commotion throughout the day. Riza expects to close her door by lunch time, when the shine of a new place will wear off in the face of boredom once the child realizes his father has work to do and no time to play.

Lunch time comes and goes, though, and it’s much like any other day. She’s going over a contract line by line when she hears someone shuffling around outside her door. She looks up and finds a head poking around the doorframe. The child looks at her with large, curious eyes, but doesn’t move.

“You can come in,” she says, because she’s nothing if not accommodating, even though she’s never been the type who knows how to behave around children.

He walks in, arms swinging at his sides and mouth agape while he takes in the details of her office. There’s not much in the way of personal effects— reference books and a decorative paperweight on the built-in shelves behind her, a fountain pen with a pen holder, a lamp with a pull-chain, and a couple of pictures of her dog, which the boy finds immediately.

“What’s your dog’s name?” he asks.

“Black Hayate,” she tells him.

“That’s a weird name.”

She looks at the boy. His nonchalant dismissal of her dog’s name is eerily familiar. “Hm. I suppose it is.”

“I like him,” the boy declares.

She smiles. “Me too.”

“May I draw?” he asks, moving from one topic to the next in the way children do.

It takes her aback slightly, but she can adapt. “Sure.” She fishes a few sheets of paper from her printer and hands him a red pen and a blue pen. “Sorry, I don’t have many colors.”

“Be right back!” he shouts, and sprints from the room.

She hears Roy’s muffled admonishment— “Thomas, don’t run around the office. People are working,” —and then the boy is back with two handfuls of crayons that have seen better days. He plops onto her floor with little fanfare and sets to work on his drawings.

He’s not so bad, she thinks. He’s quiet, and polite, and good-natured. She can see Roy in him in the way his mind works behind his eyes, and the way that he says what he thinks, and his smile.

“What are you drawing?”

“Black Hayate,” he says. Riza thinks maybe he’s using too many colors for that to be the case, but she bites her tongue. It might be nice to bring a little bit of color into this office.

When he’s finished, he stands and presents the drawing to her with both hands. “Look, see? It’s Black Hayate and me, we’re best friends, and you and Daddy, and Winry ‘cause she’s pretty like you.”

Riza feels herself blush at the unexpected compliment. “Oh, well, thank you.”

The Hayate blob is nearly as large as the Thomas stick figure, and the two yellow-haired stick figures representing herself and, presumably, Winry are indistinguishable from one another except for what must be a ponytail sticking out of the side of her own head.

“You can have it,” he says, and then he plops back down to draw something new.

Roy looks like he’s finally had a moment to tame his hair when he appears in her doorway soon after.

“There you are,” he says. “Come on, Thomas. Don’t bother Miss Hawkeye.”

“He’s no bother,” she catches herself saying. Truly, he isn’t. She can still work while he draws.

Roy raises an eyebrow at her. “Oh? I thought…” He trails off, probably realizing it would be unkind to say ‘I thought you didn’t like kids’ in front of his own son.

“Thomas drew me a picture of Hayate.” She shows him the picture. “I think it’s quite nice.”

He smiles softly at her. It’s a very nice look on him. “Yes, it is.”

“It’s alright if he stays,” Riza says. “I don’t mind the company.”

“Alright, then,” Roy says. “Behave yourself,” he says to Thomas. “If Miss Hawkeye says she needs her office back, you come right to me, alright?”

Thomas nods, not even pausing in his scribbles to look up at his father. “‘Kay.”

Roy chuckles and shoots Riza another warm smile. “I’ll be back to check on him.”

She nods and offers a smile of her own. That suits her just fine.

The day passes quickly. She amasses a total of six new artworks, all of which Thomas makes her promise to hang on her walls.

Roy comes to collect him at the end of the day. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him,” he says to Riza. “I know you weren’t expecting a new officemate today.”

“You’ll just have to let it go the next time Hayate needs to come to the office,” she quips.

“Perhaps,” he agrees.

“Daddy?” Thomas is looking up at Roy with those same big, round eyes. His crayons are tucked safely away in the bottom of his backpack.

“Hm?”

“Can Miss Hawkeye come over for dinner? Pretty please?”

Roy’s eyes widen at the request. “Oh, I’m not sure—”

“ _Pleeeease_ , Daddy?”

Riza meets his eyes over the boy’s head. Truthfully, she’s touched that the child seems to like her. It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome.

“If Miss Hawkeye wants to come to dinner, she’s welcome,” he says, not breaking eye contact with her. “But we haven’t asked her if she already has plans.”

Thomas turns his giant eyes on her. “Miss Hawkeye, do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

She breaks eye contact with Roy to smile at the boy. “As a matter of fact, I’m completely free.”

Thomas grins, and _oh_ , there’s Roy’s stunning smile. “Please, please, please!”

Riza’s heart warms. “I’d be honored,” she tells Thomas.

“Yay! Come on, Daddy! We have to go make dinner!” He makes to run for the door, but Roy grabs him by the backpack. He strains against the hold like a dog pulling on a leash. It’s amusing to see how Roy is so utterly used to it.

“We’ll see you at six, then,” Roy says. To Thomas, “Go wait by the door while I give Miss Hawkeye our address.”

Thomas doesn’t question it, though Riza already has their address.

When he’s out of earshot, Roy steps closer. “Thomas goes to bed at seven-thirty. You’re welcome to bring a bottle of wine for after dinner, if you feel so inclined.”

She can’t stop the smile tugging up the corners of her lips. “I’ll see you at six.”

She stops to buy a nice bottle of wine on her way home.


End file.
